Titus’ gaze is sympathetic to my plight. “You’ve got a lot on you, and I can’t even imagine the burden. If it helps, I think your shoulders are strong enough to bear it.”
“But I don’t want to bear it,” I reiterate.
“We don’t always get what we want,” he points out.
I glare. “Well, it’s not fair. Why do I have to be a player in a game I don’t want to play?”
“Because most likely many people on this planet will die if you don’t,” he suggests.
“So I’ve been told,” I mutter, then growl in frustration. “I just feel so alone, and I’m scared.”
Titus shakes his head with an admonishing look, causing the long dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders to sway. “But you’re not alone. You have Carrick and Zaid. You definitely have me.”
“Carrick can’t stand me, and Zaid hates everyone,” I reply petulantly. “And yes, I have you, but you have a life, too. You’re just here to train me.”
“I’m your friend, Finley. You can count on me.”
My lips tip upward in a fragile smile. “Thank you. You can count on me too, but not sure how a wimpy woman like me could help a big, badass annihilator.”
Titus laughs, white teeth blazing. “I’d definitely have you at my back in a fight, Finley. You’re incredibly good.”
“Well,” I say as I start shoving all the stuff I had spilled out of my pack back in. “I’m sure my sore muscles tomorrow will disagree with you.”
“Same time tomorrow?” he queries as he pops to his feet and extends a hand to help me up. When I grab hold, he hoists me to my feet, backpack and all.
Just as I start to shrug it on, my phone starts ringing inside. My body locks tight as my blood turns cold.
Titus must sense something because he asks, “What is it?”
“That’s my sister’s ringtone,” I rasp. It rings again. “She’s calling me.”
Titus’ eyes flare. “Answer it.”
“No,” I exclaim in horror.
“See what she wants,” he urges.
“Uh-uh,” I reply, shaking my head in denial.
“Finley,” he drawls in frustration.
“Titus,” I mimic back.
The phone stops ringing, and Titus and I merely stare at each other for what must be a solid minute until I hear that little chime that indicates I have a voicemail.
I jerk into action, diving into my backpack and pulling my phone out. My hand is unsteady as I unlock the screen and see a missed call, as well as a voicemail notification, from Fallon.
I’m barely able to navigate to my voicemails as my hands start shaking so bad. Titus grabs my phone from my hand, taps on the message, then presses the speakerphone option.
The first thing I notice within her first two words is that her tone is all wrong. It’s standoffish and vague. Her voice is huskier than it should be.
Finley… I just wanted to let you know Blain and I are taking an impromptu trip to Switzerland to do some skiing for several days. I’ll call you when I get back.
And… that’s it. No details. No I’ll miss you. No take care of yourself while I’m gone. No goodbye.
My gaze rises to Titus as he hands the phone back to me. “That was not my sister at all.”
“Is it like her to take trips like that?” he asks.
“No way. Blain’s always working, and so is she. Not to mention, neither one are spontaneous at all. She has to meticulously plan everything.”
“I wonder if there’s something special in Switzerland,” Titus mulls out loud. “Or maybe she’s really not even going there.”
I just stare at him as he frowns with concentration, rubbing at his chin. He looks at me, eyebrows raised in query.
I shrug. “I’ve got no ideas. Sorry.”
“You should call Carrick to tell him,” Titus suggests.
A saccharine smile forms, and I wag my finger at him in the negative. “Uh-uh. You call him.”
Titus shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“You really want me back in the fold?” I ask curiously. “I mean… you’re an annihilator. You have your own job, so why do you care?”
“Because I care about Carrick, and I’ve come to care about you,” he replies gruffly. “And yes, I want you back in the fold because that’s where you’ll be safest. It’s our best chance of saving the world.”
All of Carrick’s words yesterday didn’t have much of an effect, but Titus’ “saving the world” hits me low in the belly.
I shore myself up though. “I’m sorry, Titus. I just can’t. But we’ll still train tomorrow?”
“Of course,” he replies with an incline of his head. “But I’m convinced you’re going to eventually take your place, so you should just quit fighting it.”
This gives me slight pause, but I feel compelled to hold my ground. “If that’s the case, then it will be a happy day when I commit to the cause. Until then, respect my decision not to get involved.”